Chapter Text
Midoriya Izuku
Midoriya Izuku: hey shoto, could you check on yaoyorozu for me, you don't have to if you can't
Midoriya Izuku: I was gonna do it myself but got caught up with recovery girl ╥﹏╥
[read]
There's a skill that comes with being alone, surrounded by people, it's why Hanta loves the common room so much. There is always something happening, an activity to join, a game to play, a conversation to observe, or even just a whole room for yourself. It's the afternoon and with a day's worth of quirk training, the common room became a box of lazy limbs and heavy breaths. Hanta sits on the floor, skimming through some manga he picked up.
Yauyoroso comes out from the kitchen with a tray in her hand. He gets up to help her, taking one of the two bowls from her. She smiles, placing the bowl on the coffee table before heading over to a shut eyed Kyouka. The sleepy teen has her fingers lightly running through Uraraka’s brown strands. The girl is resting on her lap using her phone, softly laughing to herself from time to time.
The two bowls have an assortment of chopped-up fruit. Cutlery already had been placed on the plate previously. It didn't seem like anyone is willing to move, so Hanta took it upon himself to separate the fruits into different bowls for his friends. He sends a message in the class group chat about the desert and gets to work on the floor.
"I'd fancy a bowl, merci,” Aoyama says, voice lower than usual, calm as it lacks its mellow dramatic flair, catching Tokoyami’s attention. The bird boy is reading a book on the floor with Aoyama leaning on his shoulder, eyes half closed barely paying attention, content to merely be there.
"I'd appreciate some as well," Tokoyami says, placing a bookmark into his book, and putting it to the side. Aoyama further leans into Tokoyami who barely even acknowledges his presence.
Hanta makes the cuddling duos their bowls of fruit salad, sliding them over. The darker of the two lean over to take them, handing one to the sparkling boy who takes it with a smile and a whisper of something that isn't a thank you. Hanta looks over at them, knowing full well they weren't this comfortable with each other weeks ago. Hanta wonders if they would have still been like this if Mina was around.
Hanta hears footsteps behind him and finds Todoroki behind them, looking over at the couch with the three girls before deflating. He looks as if he missed out on something. Turning back around to leave, his eyes catch Hantas, who already has a bowl in his hands.
“Care for some fruit salad?” Hanta asks, automatic to something he just started doing. Todoroki looks at the bowl, going back and forth between the girls on the couch and him. After what Hanta wrongly assumes was a shy rejection, Todoroki sits in the seat Hanta had previously been occupying.
Running his fingers through his long overgrown hair, Todoroki watches the couch of cuddled high schoolers, nothing on his face that gives away how he feels. Hanta pours himself a bowl before sitting on the couch next to the boy. Might as well give him someone to talk to.
“You did great in class today,” Hanta compliments, grabbing the guy's attention by elbowing him gently.
“You think so?” Todoroki asks as if he never is phenomenal to anyone that could breathe. His eyes are bare with nothing to give away what he is thinking, only taking his own bowl of fruit salad.
“Maybe people tell you all the time so my thoughts mean nothing, but you pulled your game well, makes me wanna have Midoriya's brain so I can really say how,” Hanta says, liking the way Todoroki looks back down at his bowl, a hint that he wasn't expecting his admiration. Hanta wonders how much he can pull out of the aloof boy.
“Midoriya can make anyone feel special,” Todoroki says, letting himself sit more comfortably on the couch.
“I think you're more than special,” Hanta flashes a smile at him, admiring the way Todoroki’s eyes widen ever so slightly, shoving a mouthful of fruit almost too quickly. It may have been a half truth, but the truth got him a reaction, one that makes him as giddy as a kid with free candy. Todoroki looks back at the table with the fruit bowls, his bangs obscuring his eyes.
“The characters were boring in this volume, but the action made up for it,” Todoroki says after swallowing, grabbing the manga Hanta previously placed on the table.
“Didn't know you were a man of culture,” Hanta jokes, Todoroki blinking cluelessly, a beat before he spoke.
“My Japanese heritage is complicated indeed,” Hanta bites a spoonful of fruit salad, successfully stopping himself from cooing.
“How long have you been reading?”
“I only own three volumes,” Hanta pauses, looking at Todoroki to see if he is joking or not, bewildered at how he hasn't even finished the series.
“What's up with that?” Hanta asks as he sits back leaning into the couch, Todoroki following along, an air of room between them.
“Father said they were a waste of time,” Todoroki admits, playing with his strands again. Hanta heard from rumours and murmurs that Todoroki doesn't have the best relationship with his father, but to have been told that his father deprives him of the very joys of the purest form of written literature is an abomination of nature.
“Dude, if you're ever looking to quench the thirst deprived of your childhood, my door is unlocked and my shelf is yours to steal,” Todoroki cokes his head to the side, eyebrows barely raising.
“Stealing is illegal in japan,” he states, voice stale and calm with a question woven through. Hanta turns towards Todoroki, bringing his elbow to rest on the couch, leaning closer to him.
“Not for you, it's not,” Hanta puts his best voice to work, his tone sultry deep. Despite that, Todoroki never gives a reaction. He just glances at the movement, laser-focused on their proximity.
“What if I disturb you at one in the morning,” Todoroki asks, disregarding the earlier statement, yet, somehow still warming Hanta at the thought that Todoroki is actually taking his request seriously. Even if his stoic face gives off a completely different indication.
“Denks has woken me up at the worst times,” he almost doesn't catch it, but Todoroki’s eyes reveal a shine that wasn't there before. A sort of hope, like an opportunity he never knew to exist, is now thrown into his hands.
"Hey, Sero,” Uraraka calls out, stretching herself over the couch. “Could you pass me a bowl with extra strawberries please?" Kyouka snorts, bringing the attention of the room to the two.
"Of course you'd want extra strawberries," Kyouka says, barely lifting her eyes open from her spot, a lazy smirk across her face.
"What's that supposed to mean?'' Uraraka fights back, glaring at her with the fierce eyes of a newborn kitten.
"It means someone as pink and preppy as Uraraka would obviously like strawberries," Hanta teases back.
"Strawberries have nothing to do with my personality," Uraraka scrunches her face as she sinks into the couch, everyone laughing lightly at her antics.
"I really enjoy peaches, that seems like a fruit that matches me," Yaoyoroso adds on, silently asking for a bowl for herself.
"I am a star fruit extraordinaire," Aoyama says, his typical flair slowly coming back to him.
"You're only saying that so it deliberately matches your aesthetic," Kyouka teases, leaving everyone chuckling, one that leaves Aoyama to roll his eyes at her.
"One bowl of strawberries with a side of fruits for m’lady," Hanta announces. Uraraka snatches the bowl from his hands with the aggression of a pissed chihuahua.
"I would like to add that I indulge in apples over other fruits,'' Tokoyami says, said fruit on his fork. Kyouka flattens at the remark, noticing how the matching of fruit to personally didn't quite align much.
"Hey, he's like, part bird, and birds eat seeds, apples have seeds right? His fruit fits him," Hanta rambles, trying to say anything that might lift the spirits of someone who’s not even attempted to open her eyes to judge his thought process.
"Actually I prefer gender-neutral pronouns," Tokoyami says, the room now still to look over at them. Hanta stops halfway from passing Yauyorozo her bowl to take in the causal nature of someone who essentially came out.
"So like, their fruit fits them?" Hanta repeats, trying to make sure he got it right. Tokoyami gives a short nod, finally noticing how all the attention is on them. Hanta understands that feeling, the initial shock of everyone around them when revealing that the idea of everyone created isn't the person they actually are.
"I'm non-binary, I would appreciate it if you used they or them when referring to me," Tokoyami says, not looking at anyone in particular, fidgeting with their fruit bowl.
The three girls on the couch stare at each other, biting their lips and fidgeting with their fingers. It's not as if no one in the class has come out before. It is, however, the first time someone comes out in terms of their gender. It's expected that no one is prepared.
Hanta wishes he had Tokoyami’s confidence, he wishes he could ask everyone to see him the same way he sees himself. He smashes the jealous cry in the back of his head as everyone says ‘cool’, ‘that's pretty chill’, and ‘we still see you the same'.
Hanta isn't the guy everyone sees him as. He's not the boy he brands himself to be. That doesn't mean he hasn't been enjoying the way he's been able to explore himself in such a supportive environment. He just hates how he's never corrected people when he's pushed into the wrong sports team in middle school, or reluctantly entered the men's bathroom at UA.
He isn't a man, nor a woman, but we would rather die than ever let anyone know that about him. He is less of a bother this way.
"Sero, you never said what's your favourite fruit," Todoroki says, breaking whatever traise had gotten over everyone. Shoto takes the bowl and gets up to hand it to Yaoyorozu, leaving all the attention on him.
"Yeah, unfair as hell, what's Mr fruit bowls favourite fruit? Kyouka says, quickly latching back to the main point of the conversation.
"I actually couldn't think of just one, maybe oranges, I tend to lean towards those quite often,” he says, more than happy to throw all the attention away from Tokoyami, even if all the stares crawl under his skin. They let out a small breath of relief, Aoyama rubbing their shoulders in solidarity. They both look cute together.
"See strawberry shortcake, never question me again, you'll just be wrong,'' Kyouka grins, chewing on a slice of strawberry from her bowl, satisfied with everyone's response. Uraraka mumbles something under her breath and the mood shifts to its light atmosphere.
Todoroki talked to Yaoyorozu, quiet under the banter Kyouka and Uraraka passed between each other. Other students start trickling down to the common room for some fruit salad, and so, Hanta moves back to his designated job as fruit bowl server, making sure everyone has their servings, thinking over the possibilities of talking to Todoroki again.
Class 3-A (Iida monitored (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥)
Tokoyami Fumikage (Aoyama’s friend?): To those that had not been bestowed with the knowledge, I identify as non-binary and would prefer if everyone would use they/them when referring to me.
Aoyama Yuga (Izuku’s friend): ✧⭒°:*✧ i use he/him *:⭒°✧*:⭒°
Kaminari Denki (Katsuki's friend): PRONOUN CHAIN
[7 people are typing…]
In most situations, Hanta is able to react quite enthusiastically. He is usually someone that has the right answers to the wrong questions, a level head in a room full of balloons. He is a calming force when needed.
That doesn’t explain why he is gawking at Todoroki at one in the morning when asked for oranges. But low-and-behold, the man and the myth himself is standing outside Hantas room, in silk smooth pajamas and pin-straight gorgeous hair may he add, waiting for Hanta to open his mouth and answer the damn question.
“huh?” Hanta supplies helpfully. If he could, he would backhand the back of his head. It isn’t like Hanta could blame his reaction on sleep, Denki has entered his dorm at worse hours and he’s reacted just fine. Todoroki tends to have an effect on people, he supposes.
“Would you like to have some oranges,” Todoroki repeats, like clarification was the issue in the first place.
“Uuh, sure, give me a sec,” Hanta gently slams the door shut and races for a shirt, a decent one that covers his body because sue him if he hates the way his elbows feel when he sleeps.
Todoroki saw him shirtless.
His face burns as a shirt is thrown over his body. Looking at the mirror, his curly messy hair flops over his eyes, it's cute in the way some dogs are ugly. It's midnight, he can afford to look like he just woke up.
He grabs a hoodie for good measure and opens the door back up, greeted by Todoroki leaning on the wall, likely staring at the door if the unmoving stance Hanta is greeted with is anything to go by. Without a second to waste, they both head towards the elevator, Hanta ready for whatever sudden orange cravings has to offer.
“Were you sleeping?” Todoroki ends up whispering the silence away, startling enough to force a response out of Hanta.
“I mean yeah, but who wouldn't like a late-night snack, besides,” a yawn rips out of him, and Todoroki keeps his stare towards the elevator “oranges? you know me so well,”
Todoroki hummed, opening the elevator and stepping in without a word. He kept his hands on the side, stiff and straight. He looked like this was planned against his will and completely by accident.
“Couldn't sleep well, my dude?” Hanta asks, leaning in just enough to catch Todoroki’s attention, making sure to give enough room for him to back away, he didn't.
“I don't sleep at this time,” he replies, blank and monotone, not giving Hanta much to work with, which is fine. Hanta has pulled more out of his brothers before they learned to speak.
“A night owl I see, never pegged mister sleeps-in-class as one,” Todoroki raises his eyebrows at that, and Hanta could have sworn there was a smug glint in his eyes.
“I have to be awake at one point,” he says, a judging eye peeking through his bangs. Hanta fakes a gasp, over dramatic stupidity. He earns an eye roll, and that's more than nothing.
“As a morning person, I can handle my fair share of late night adventures, especially for a cutie who wakes me up at one in the morning,” the elevator door opens, but Todoroki stays frozen in place, his eyes staring right back at him, hyper focused. If Hanta was a weaker person, which he thanks every divine power he isn't, he would have crumbled like paper.
“You think I'm cute?” Todoroki asks, blinking owlishly.
“I think you're the cutest person in the world,” Todoroki leaves the elevator with a pink tint on his cheeks, fingers brushing his bangs over his eyes, and Hanta follows along, feeling his own cheeks pinch into an involuntary smile. He covers his mouth to wipe off the evidence as he reaches the blushing boy's side.
“I think you're cute too,” Todoroki mumbles. Hanta feels his head wrap itself around a sentence he doesn't believe was actually uttered from Todoroki's mouth. “we're at the kitchen” he supplies, a whisper as if not to interrupt whatever is in front of them.
Tokoyami is on the counter, harbouring a cup of something steaming with a sleeping blonde wrapped around their torso. Hanta smiles and nods his head when Tokoyami’s eyes match his. They nod back, running their fingers through Aoyama's hair as Hanta reaches for the fridge.
“How many oranges does the blushing boy want,” he teases, and the huff of air paired with Todoroki’s tight lip stare is hilariously adorable in Hanta’s humble opinion.
“Two,” he answers, looking into the fridge with him, leaving a space of air between their shoulders. Hanta moves over, giving him room to look at the leftover lunch containers and ready to throw away produce.
“Looks like you aren't having any, we've run out,'' Hanta straightens his back, looking down at Todoroki rummaging through the fridge, moving aside the carefully arranged stacks to find what isn't there.
“I just ordered some,” Todoroki says, an apologetic sigh as he turns to Hanta, as if he had been the one who wanted the oranges. Hanta looks back into the fridge again, hoping that looking again would make the oranges appear into thin air. What did appear, however, is a menacing jug of orange juice on the side of the door.
“Assuming the orange juice is fresh, Iida must have used them all,'' Todoroki stands defeated and sulking with the little change his face provides. “Hey don't be like that, we still have cherries,''
“I really wanted to have some oranges with you,” Hanta pauses at that, processing what Todoroki said. He's in the kitchen with Todoroki Shoto, the boy that, just two years ago, never even wanted any friends. Hanta is wanted company, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, eating a fruit he likes, with said Todoroki Shoto.
Someone like Todoroki Shoto, who was anti-friendship, what's to be with someone like Sero Hanta.
He doesn't need to make it a big deal, but he feels wanted, something he didn't know could make him stop every fibre of his body to feel sticky emotions he didn't want to dig into. Each time he repeats it to himself, it doesn't make reality feel any more real.
“How about we go shopping for some, you know, as friends,” he adds that part like he's dipping his toes in an unknown liquid, only figuring out if it's acid or just hot water by a response that doesn't arrive fast enough.
Todoroki thinks about it for a minute, or at least Hanta is assuming that's what is taking so long. They look at each other, the silence covered by Tokoyami’s loud sipping, one that Hanta wants to pour into their eyes so they wouldn't witness his inevitable rejection.
“I'd like that,” Todoroki finally, at last, says, warm eyes glossing over him. He takes the orange juice from the fridge and two glasses as Hanta lets out a breath. Hanta counts this weird one AM encounter as a success. Even if Todoroki sits in silence the whole time, it's something.
Hanta isn’t quite sure what happened. Moments ago Todoroki seemed like an immovable force, and yet, that soft look says otherwise. One that looks like, despite everything, Hanta means something to Todoroki. Hanta went to sleep that night, wondering what their shopping trip would consist of.
Class 3-A (Aisawa monitored)
Iida Tenya: Shopping list for Todoroki Shoto and Sero Hanta.
Iida Tenya: Milk
Iida Tenya: Pads
Iida Tenya: Shredded cheese
Iida Tenya: Bread crumbs
Iida Tenya: Dish soap
Iida Tenya: Laundry detergent
Ashido Mina (Katsuki's friend): what's with the government names?
[2 people are typing…]
Hanta looks at the list on his phone as he waits outside the dorm, memorising everything needed at this point. The words have turned to mush and mud with the way his mind is racing. For the life of him, he can't help but wind down the childish excitement over a shopping trip.
He asked his friends if they wanted to join, but most of them had to study. It isn't so bad, they can all hang out together another time. While he waits, he can't help but think about how Todoroki and him are going out, alone, together, like he was taking Todoroki out for some coffee or something stupidly cheesy.
God, coffee with Todoroki would be nice.
“Did you wait long?” a voice nearby says. With its smooth deep voice, Hanta was happy to be greeted with the calming nature of Todoroki’s presence.
“Nah, had to go over the list anyways,” Hanta starts to walk. Todoroki nods, walking close enough for his left side to radiate a small warmth as they head over to the store. The fall breeze fights against the heat Hanta leans into.
“I never checked it, I was getting money from Aisawa,” he pats his pocket, which Hanta assumes is where his wallet must have been.
“Besides our top priority, it's just pads, some dairy, and soap,” Hanta hands over his phone to Todoroki, who hums before giving the phone back, staring ahead, not conversing much. “So, why the oranges, not exactly a crave worthy fruit is it,” Although it isn't awkward, the store is a fifteen minute walk, and Hanta appreciates some small talk.
“I've been thinking about you a lot, and you said you like oranges, seemed reasonable to have them with you,” Todoroki reasons, like he didn't just say the nicest thing Hanta has ever heard in his life.
“Why me though, I mean, Midoriya rarely ever sleeps, you can eat with him,” he rambles, staring at the trees, away from the blinking boy, who now, is itching closer to his face.
“You're red,”
“Am not,”
“You look red,”
“It's hot,”
“It's nearing winter,”
“You're hallucinating,”
“Do I make you uncomfortable,”
“Huh?” With Todoroki’s face so close to his, the question feels just a little bit out of place. A sudden space of air is added between them when Todoroki backs away, it makes Hanta feel the chill of the wind under his oversized sweater.
“You tend to joke around a lot, I just want to make sure,” Hanta doesn't get why Todoroki feels the need to check in, but it probably isn't for his own sake.
“Dude it's cool, we were just teasing each other, weren't we?” He tries to go for his signature toothy grin. he’s used it on his brothers after they bruise themselves, on his friends after an embarrassing moment, and on camera after a disaster. It usually works like a charm.
“I guess so, I'm not used to it,” Todoroki took a strand of his hair, twirling it around his fingers. His hair lays over his shoulder, and Hanta would pay the world for a moment to push it away from his face.
“If teasing isn't your thing, it's totally cool, we're still friends anyways,” he shrugs, forcing his eyes away from bi-colored hair.
“We’re friends,” Todoroki states, loud and jarring, awkward as it ends like a rhetorical question. Even if it isn't psychic, they both stop in their tracks, Hanta, because he might have misunderstood their entire relationship.
“I mean, I like talking to you, and I want to do it more often, doesn't that make us friends?” Hanta squeaks out, scratching the back of his neck. He wants to claw his eyes out for assuming that he would be worthy of the attention of someone like Todoroki. He should have known his place. If he could, he'd melt himself into the ground, and grow into a tree to become something useful, instead of stealing oxygen from the world.
Todoroki lets out a small ‘oh’, walking right ahead again, as if he hadn't just created the most toe curling atmosphere known to man.
“Roki, my man, you make me weak,” he whines, smiling enough to indicate that he is joking.
“Do you need help,” with a raised eyebrow, it seems like Todoroki caught on that he isn't serious, but Todoroki didn't catch everything. His little naive, self completely unbeknown to the ways Hanta rubs his hands maniacally in his head.
“I might need you to hold my hand,” he lifts it between them, snug and stupid, the same way he does with Denki. The widened eyes and stumbled steps are so worth it.
He feels hands grab his own, thick fingers wrapping over the back of his hand, snug and perfect, and a little sweaty. It takes Hanta too long to realise the sweat was his. He looks over at the hand between them, how it fits together. Hanta holds his breath, just to see if he is actually alive or if this is a sick dream.
“You're red again, am I not helping?” Todoroki sounds genuinely worried, and Hanta plans to tan again just to make his blush kick itself in the nuts.
“Your hands are nice,” he chuckles, covering his mouth, looking away from the one holding his hand. The small squeeze he feels did nothing to subdue the red that covers his face.
“I've never held anyone's hands, so I can say you're the best hands I've ever held,” Todoroki says with more seriousness than necessary. With the way Hanta likes this feeling, he has to exchange the sentiment.
“As someone who's held many hands, you're certainly the best,” now it's Todoroki’s turn to tint his cheeks pink, but he doesn't look away, rather, he looks over with a gentle shine. Hanta must have done something right.
“I'm glad,” he says, and Hanta realised at that moment, he wants to have a person like Todoroki for himself. The selfish part of him knows that he will never have something like this. He can't help but want to be with the boy and have these little moments for himself. To hold his hand because he can. He doesn’t even know what this feeling even is, he knows he wants to be selfish.
He can't though.
Todoroki isn’t an object he can take, and no matter how he feels, Todoroki is light years out of his league. Even so, he'll stay by his side. Hanta is more than willing to be patient for however long Todoroki will humour him for.
“Pads are those diaper things, right? for blood I mean,” for now patience can wait.
Emotional Support Buddies(!)
Midoriya Izuku: update me on what happens ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ
Asui Tsuyu: It's not a date midoriya calm down
Yauyorozo Momo: Todoroki's making friends, it's an improvement to how he used to be.
Uraraka Ochako (Friends): dont say anything stupid roki!!!!
[Iida Tenya is typing…]
Ten minutes trying to find the groceries on his list, and twenty minutes of describing what pads are, they both finally reach the sanitary section of the store. Hanta finds that visual examples help with teaching eighteen year olds about pads and their functions.
“Some come in different sizes, for blood flow. sometimes it's heavy, like these heavy duty ones, and sometimes their light, like these,” he explains, holding up the pads and handing them to Todoroki, who inspects them with great focus.
“Who taught you all this?” he asks, innocent to the absolute chaos his single mother had to go through raising a bunch of rowdy boys and a Hanta.
“Ma did, she had pretty bad cramps, you learn a thing or two being the eldest," he's been blessed not to be burdened with whatever hell has been placed onto his poor mother.
“Did your sisters never help?'' Todoroki questions, placing the pads into the trolley they pushed around, asking about something that Hanta knew isn't his fault. ignorance is, more often than not, exhausting.
“Never had any, just four annoying little guys, what about yours,” this time, he knew Todoroki had a sister, if Bakugou's insistent bragging about her recipes were anything to go by.
“We never spoke much, so I never got first hand experience, besides Uraraka being very vocal about her cramps,” he shrugs, pushing their cart forward, as if the fact that he isn't aware of the basic health of fifty percent of the population was a dismissive matter.
“Did you never learn this stuff in middle school?” Surely Todoroki went to a prestigious private school that had an education system that had not failed a future hero-to-be.
“I was homeschooled, so father chose what was important and what to gloss over,” Hanta should have predicted that. Of course the worst father of the year would only teach what he deems was necessary, and leave out the actual important things Todoroki needs to learn.
“He really hits the goal of the terrible father huh?” Hanta hears a breathy laugh from Todoroki as they finally spot the oranges, maneuvering through the fruit aisle slower than standard walking speed.
“Pads are expensive anyways, why bother when diapers are cheaper,” this is where Hanta might just choke.
“My dignity, my sanity, dude would you genuinely wear diapers every month if you had to,” he knows that a few people around them are staring, but this is a UA protected grocery store, he's heard his fair share of weird conversations from students he sees in the halls.
“It's convenient and doesn't leak through,” Todoroki answers, like he has given the question an atom of a thought.
“Ask anyone with a uterus and they'd most definitely say pads over diapers,”
“Who’d I ask?'' Hanta isn't sure if the question was another tease, or was genuine. As he looks through the list of people Todoroki could ask, he pushes them all aside. Hanta was much more willing to place the burden of asking the question himself. One which was filled with a response full of ridicule.
“Nevermind, I'll ask Mina,” the oranges in front of them gives Hanta something to focus on, and as he starts looking through his options, Todoroki moves over with a hum of a response, grabbing a bag to put the fruit into.
“What would asking her achieve?” Hanta shoots Todoroki a quick stink eye, who is already looking at a few oranges and placing them in the bag.
“That pads don't lower one's dignity,” he picks up an orange to inspect, looking over it for reasons he doesn't quite know. Todoroki is doing it, so he'll do the same.
“Dignity is rudimentary, convenience is key,” Todoroki says, plucking the orange out of Hanta's hand and placing it in the bag.
“Hey, I wasn't done checking on that one,” he pouts, like he is doing anything other than forcing himself not to stare at Todoroki.
“If it caught your attention it's worthy,” he says, as if Hanta was someone superior, his full attention on the oranges. It was cute, and if Hanta glossed it over as banter, he wouldn't have to think about it too hard.
“You sure do know how to make someone swoon,” Hanta says, leaning into Todoroki just slightly. He doesn't back away, nor is particularly indifferent, judging by the fact that he continues to pack more oranges.
“I'd say you do it better,” Hanta leans in closer this time, watching Todoroki turn to face him, widened eyes making Hanta grin. With their slight height difference, Hanta leans down just slightly to get the proper effect he needs, completely face to face with someone who blinks with hesitant curiosity.
“Do I make you swoon, pretty boy?” pink cheeks are, unfortunately, instantly covered with hair that blocks his view of what he started. Todoroki turns towards a random orange and holds it between their faces.
“Is this orange worthy?” It is a straight, monotone question, but his quickness to ask it isn't lost on Hanta.
“If it catches your attention, as the saying goes,” he takes the orange, slipping it into the bag before leaning away. Hanta peaks at the way Todoroki keeps his face neutral, despite subtly trying to calm the red blossoming throughout his face,
“It sounds better when you say it,” he pouts, well, as much of a pout as he can manage with a straight face, but it doesn't fail to look utterly adorable on him.
“My charm seems to be working, I might just have to steal you away,” Hanta jokes, knowing he’ll never be able to make such a stupid dream into an unattainable reality.
“That doesn't sound too bad,” Todoroki finally seems to be done with his orange picking, getting enough not to overflow. They walk away, ready to pay for everything.
“You say that like I'm some shonen manga protagonist,” that sentence seems to leave the conversation with a split second of silence that Hanta wasn't expecting. It sits between them like a spill. Hanta waits, wondering whether he should say more.
“As Iida one put it, I don't understand that pop culture reference,” Hanta breathes out, thankful he hasn't said anything that cost him time with Todoroki.
“How does a good ole’ rom-com sound to you then?”
Emotional Support Buddies(!)
Asui Tsuyu: The man asked you if you liked romcoms and your response was “love has always failed in my eyes” ??????
Yauyorozo Momo: I think it's charming.
Iida Tenya: You are misusing the term charming in this situation.
[Todoroki Shoto is typing…]
Hanta feels a little bit proud of himself. Just a little.
“Welcome to my humble estate, make yourself comfortable, we've got a carpet, a hammock, and a bed, all yours to enjoy,” Hanta did a little spin as he enters the room, dramatics and all, two plates of peeled oranges in his hands. It was late at night, and after they retreated to their separate designated destinations after the shopping trip, having Todoroki knock on his door again at one in the morning is a small win in his books.
He wishes his room was a tad bit cleaner, but he thinks the mess gives the room a homey feel. His desk is a clutter of books, notes, and stationary, homemade plushies scattered around the place. At least there isn't any trash on the floor, ignoring the two water bottles he had to hide when Todoroki wasn't looking.
All in all, having Todoroki in his room at all feels great.
“You have a lot of stuffed animals,” Todoroki points out, staring at his overwhelming collection of a fraction of what he had created. Hanta really should get rid of the ones that took space more than comforted him.
“Not by choice that's for sure buddy,” some of them are simple sock plushies he made mindlessly, something to make when he's bored. The ones made from his old shirts are there to get rid of things he doesn’t wear anymore. The crochet plushies, however, were more so the bigger emotions that ate him up, regurgitated into cute animals that sit on his bed, waiting for a new home.
His brothers used to beg him for some, he even took requests from his middle school classmates to make some. After a while, he realises how much people had taken from him, so now he gives the plushies before anyone can ask from him. Mina was ecstatic to find herself gifted with a giant pink teddy bear this year.
Most of the plushies are small and simple. Cats and bears from the shirts, farm animals from socks, and an assortment of complicated crochet designs, woven together on the rare moments he feels his head about to explode. The most noticeable one is the round purple ball of limbs that attempt to look like an octopus the size of a torso. It sits at the bottom of his bed.
“The octopus looks disfigured,'' Todoroki says, the purple thing in question stitched with a face of happiness. It was a sloppy design, rushed with parts of the thread peaking out in the wrong places, but Hanta likes it that way. It's his favourite plushie he's ever made. It is his after all.
“Be nice to string bean, he helped me survive midterms,” he places the plate on the bed and goes to pick up the stuffed animal, its thread soft. Todoroki looks over at the animal as Hanta hands it to him, both blinking at each other.
“What do I do with him?” Todoroki reaches out to take it, but pauses to stiffly rub it. If that moment repeats in Hanta's head, he thanks the divine power no one in the room has a mind reading quirk.
He pushes the octopus onto Todoroki's chest. “Cuddle him, he really likes a good hug,” he smiles. Todoroki looks over at the purple crochet stuffed animal, emotions as clear as a brick wall, before taking it into his hands
“Thank you for allowing me permission to hold onto your plushies,” Todoroki's eyes read of determination, like cuddling was a mission. Hanta laughs, walking over to his shelf of mangas to pick out the one he dedicated for Todoroki to read.
“Don't be so formal, besides you'll need him for the killer manga I'm about to drop on you,” he takes the first volume out of its distinct spot. The cover page is that of the two main characters' backs facing each other. A mutant girl with a sword in her hand, peeking at the glowing hands of a clearly distressed boy, both with a red string tied between them.
“You said it would make me cry,” Todoroki says, walking over to where Hanta is, looking at the cover.
“Indeed it will, the strings of unfaited,” he places his elbow on Todoroki's shoulder as he curls his other hand into a fist, closing his eyes, enjoying the warmth that Todoroki naturally has. “A story of pain and love, adventure and romance, the thrill, the hope, the suffering”
“The art is pretty,” Todoroki adds, taking the book into his hands.
“So without any spoilers, those two, enemies, like two sides of good and evil enemies. But also, they’re soulmates, absolute best story you can think of,” he places his chin onto his arm, looking over Todoroki’s shoulder to see his reaction. He feels like he could sink a little closer, take more.
“You are very touchy,” it isn't the response he is expecting, pushing away in a flinch, stepping back for good measure. His body prickles in the memory of his wrongs.
“My bad dude, didn't mean to be all over you,'' Hanta apologises, biting his lip before he could say anything worse. Todoroki looks down at the manga, holding the plushie closer to himself, a lighter grip on the manga volume. Todoroki's face is indifferent, almost cold if he stared long enough.
Hanta messed up. He has to do something, but he doesn’t know what. They only started to get to know each other and now Todoroki probably wants to throw the manga and crack Hanta’s skull open, tie him up, and use him as a prime example of the worst human being in the world, maybe even worse than his father.
Maybe Hanta is overthinking.
“These stuffed animals remind me of Yaoyorozu’s,” Todoroki says, a blank face with nothing to read, despite that, Hanta lets out a small breath. Maybe he hasn't ruined everything yet. Todoroki steps closer, not as close as they were, but he covers the space between them a bit more. It's almost normal. Maybe it is normal.
"I bet hers are better quality," Todoroki doesn't seem to mind, but Hanta doesn’t trust himself anymore. “Hey, if I ever get too much for you, promise you'll call me out. hell, if I ever piss you off in general, let me know, ‘kay?” He holds his breath as he forces his body to relax, to look as chill as possible while his brain functions as effectively as a virus ridden computer.
“Okay,'' Todoroki nods, being the one that actually looks relaxed, shoulders dropped as he blinks like a cat. Maybe Hanta was overthinking.
“Take my bed, get comfy, enjoy yourself dude, I'll be on my hammock,” Hanta maneuvers his way around Todoroki, plopping himself onto the hammock with practiced ease. he hopes he looks as casual as his racing mind wont let him be.
“You wouldn't mind,” Todoroki asks, unmoving as he looks back and forth between Hanta and the bed.
“Could care less. get comfy, string bean wants his midnight cuddles,” Hanta grins, leaning back into the hammock in a way he knows makes him look good, if Denki’s dog whistles are anything to go by. Todoroki takes too long to look away, but he moves over to the bed, slow with his movements as he rests his back on the headrest.
Hanta tries not to stare, but he watches closely as Todoroki stares at the manga cover, wrapping his arms around string bean before opening up the manga, a blank stare around a comfortable mood. It's not as if Hanta knows what Todoroki is thinking about most of the time, let alone why he even thought of coming to him in the first place. But he’s done something right at least.
Well, he hopes he did anyway.
Soft Girls!!! (and Shoto)
Yauyorozo Momo: Mine are custom made!! Would you like his number? Or would you prefer it if I just bought you one? Or should I buy one for everyone? How about we all go shopping for some?
Uraraka Ochaco (Friends): do we have to??
Yauyorozo Momo: ):
[Uraraka Ochaco (Friends) is typing…]